


Molting Season

by mightysketch



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bird Gavin, Cat Michael, Drabble, Fluff, Hybrids, M/M, Multi, OT6, Rabbit Ray, molting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightysketch/pseuds/mightysketch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael definitely was not expecting a literal explosion of feathers to hit him when he opened the door.  </p><p>The small bathroom was, very literally, covered in feathers. They smothered the floor and even rested on and in the sink in a small pile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Molting Season

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written in a while so im a bit rusty pls forgive me,,,,
> 
> this is my first ot6 fic so advice would be rad

Prompt:  
Anonymous said:  
bruh you should totes write a hybird ot6 fic. don't give a fuck about the plot just pure teeth rotting fluff.  
\---  
When Michael had woken up alone in the huge bed he shared with his boyfriends, he didn’t think much of it. It was Saturday and the gents had planned on running errands they couldn’t manage during the week. Ray was probably woken up by the older three’s departure-the rabbit hybrid’s sensitive ears tended to deprive him of a lot of sleep. Most likely he was downstairs playing a video game. But the absence of Gavin was a bit of a shock to the cat hybrid. 

Usually the Brit would sleep till mid afternoon-sometimes more if no one bothered to wake him up. Even if he had been woken up by something, he would have most likely gone back to sleep. So, after a few minutes of laying still in the bed and soaking up the warmth, Michael forces himself out of the plush mattress and scrounges for some clothes to find his missing boyfriend.

As Michael makes to leave the bedroom, he notices something next to the door frame- a small, light brown feather resting atop the carpet. Michael slowly bends down and picks up the plumage, rolling it in his fingers.

It was definitely Gavin’s-he was the only one in the house with any feathers. But he didn’t shed feathers regularly unless he was really sick. The cat hybrid stands and quickly surveys the rest of the bedroom and notices several other feathers identical to the one in his hand scattered around the room. Worry begins to manifest in the redhead’s gut; if Gavin was sick enough to be dropping feathers, he should probably be taken to the hospital.

Michael quickly makes his way out of the large master bedroom, scanning the hallway that made up most of the second floor. The door to the spare bedroom is open and there is no sign of Gavin anywhere in the dark room, and the closet across the hall is the same way. As Michael ends his inspection of the small closet, he notices another feather further down the hall, followed by several more making a makeshift trail to the door at the end of the hall-the bathroom. 

The bathroom door was quite possibly the oldest fixture in the two-story house. It had been white once, but was now an off, unpleasant shade of not-white. The paint was peeling in droves and oftentimes the floor had to be vacuumed several times a week to keep the peelings off of the carpet. As Michael tentatively knocks on the old wood, several more fall off onto the redhead’s bare feet. 

“You in there, Gav?” Michael asks, leaning close to the door. He hears shuffling inside and immediately recognizes the sound of large wings beating and gently scraping the walls of the room. Michael knocks again and tries the doorknob, only to find it’s locked.

“Go away, Michael.” Gavin says from the other side of the door. Michael’s worry grows as he tries the knob again, jiggling it roughly in the hopes that it will somehow unlock.

“Dude seroisly, open the door.” The cat hybrid says tensely, his grip on the brass knob turning his knuckles white.

“What’s up?” A voice says from behind Michael, who jumps several feet in fear. Whirling around, the cat comes face-to-face with Ray, staring curiously at the scene from over his DS. Michael motions vaguely at the door behind him.

“Gavin won’t open the door.” He says, turning back to the door. Ray furrows his brow in confusion.

“Okay? Maybe he’s taking a shit.”

Michael rolls his eyes and points out the feathers on the ground to the rabbit hybrid. Ray takes several moments to stare at the scattered plumage, the turns back to the redhead. 

“Is he sick?” Ray asks, a hint of worry lacing his voice. Michael shrugs.

“I dunno. He won’t open up the goddamned door.”

Ray pushes past the redhead and knocks softly on the off-white door.

“Gavin, you okay in there?” He asks softly. After a few seconds of silence, there is more shuffling from the bathroom.

“Uh yeah,” Gavin says uncertainly. ‘I’m well good.” 

“Okay. Can you open the door?” 

Silence from the bathroom. Ray knocks again and, after a few seconds of silence. Michael growls and kneels in front of the door.

Michael had used his claws to pick locks many times before moving in with his boyfriends. He had quickly gotten used to the sharp sensation of his claws snapping when he was young; he barely noticed it as he got older. But after both Jack and Geoff has showed intense concern on several occasions for the broken and bloody fingertips (and the lack of privacy), the cat hybrid decided that knocking was the better alternatives.

Even though he was rusty, it took him less than a second still to unlock the door. Michael immediately stands and pulls the door open roughly, Gavin squawking loudly in shock.

Michael definitely was not expecting a literal explosion of feathers to hit him when he opened the door. He stumbles backwards in surprise as Ray makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat. 

The small bathroom is, very literally, covered in feathers. They smother the floor and even rest on and in the sink in a small pile. In the center of the disaster sits Gavin, looking pitiful with his shoulders slumped. His wings looked like they had been attacked by a leaf blower-not a single feather was settled or in place.

“Gavin?” Ray asks tentatively, taking in the disaster zone that their bathroom has become. 

“What the fuck?” Michael says after he regains his composure. Gavin makes a frustrated noise in reply and waves his arms childishly, whipping up a small storm of plumage. 

“It itches.” The bird hybrid whines.  
\---  
After spending an hour cleaning up the mess of feathers in the upstairs bathroom, the lads find themselves downstairs in the living room, gently grooming Gavin’s wings. Ray is curled up comfortably on Michael’s lap, combing his fingers through the large primary and secondary feathers while Michael slowly threaded through the top part slowly, so as to not hurt the Brit. Gavin had relaxed and was half asleep, enjoying the sensation of having his molting wings groomed. Beside them, a huge pile of feathers was steadily growing, Gavin’s wings somehow producing endless amounts of plumage.

Quietly, Michael was unconsciously purring-an act he would be mortified about in any other situation. Ray was reveling in the sound, cuddling closer to the cat to feel the slight vibrations caused by the noise. Over time, the grooming slowed as all three of the men fell asleep. Eventually, Gavin turned and cuddled as close as he could to the other two, the three of them barely managing to stay on the couch.

When the gents returned home soon after, they immediately noticed the pile of wings and ears on the couch and, after quickly putting away the groceries, carefully joined the pile. They would probably regret sleeping on the couch when they woke up with sore necks and backs, but fuck it.


End file.
